Edwyn
Collins is famous for a number of things:
that voice, one of the most strangely soulful in
British music; a sometime questionable taste in
haircuts and knitwear (and I’m not sure about
the mustard coloured shoes he’s sporting tonight);
being at the forefront of the musical renaissance
that sprung out of Glasgow in 1980 with Orange Juice
and Postcard Records; his 1994 global hit single
‘A girl like you’; and the fact that
in February 2005 he suffered two brain haemorrhages,
underwent major surgery and emerged alive, but speechless
and without the use of much of his right side. And
thinking about it, he should also be famous for
the fact that just over three years on he’s
here on the stage at the Shepherds Bush Empire,
playing with his band to a sadly only half-full
house of very loving fans. If the rest have written
him off then they’ve made a big mistake.

Since
his illness, Collins has released a new album (that
he’d just finished recording before his two
strokes) and last year performed a handful of gigs
in London. Now he’s back on a short UK tour.
He’s worked hard to get back the power of
speech, and the ability to sing. His voice still
with that unique resonating bassano boom but when
he speaks he’s slower and more deliberate
than his former eloquent self. But he has a lot
to say – telling us about the strokes, about
learning to sing again, about trying to remember
his songs – all of which is punctuated by
an infectious deep laughter.

Dave Ruffy and Edwyn Collins

And
when he does sing it’s the same Edwyn Collins
voice, sometimes a little flat (but wasn’t
he always?) and occasionally hesitant over some
of the more complex lyrics. Apart from that it’s
the real thing – no sympathy votes here at
all, please. And behind him is a band that will
not let him fail. Unless I’m mistaken, it
includes Dave Ruffy (ex Ruts) on the drums, Andy
Hackett (as well known for selling
guitars as playing them) on guitar, Carwyn Ellis
on bass, Sean Read on keyboards (both long-time
Collins collaborators), and fronting the outfit
Roddy Frame
on electric and acoustic guitars and banjo. Frame
and Collins are very close and old friends, but
even so Frame excels himself in everything he does
– I’ve rarely seen a guitarist play
through a set like he does.

Roddy
Frame and Edwyn Collins

The set begins with ‘Falling and laughing’,
‘Poor old soul’ and ‘What presence’,
a trio of Orange Juice heavyweights, before turning
to Collins’ solo work with songs from the
new album, ‘Home again’, One is a lonely
number’, ‘You’ll never know (my
love)’ (with guest vocals from Luca Santucci),
‘One track mind’ with older tunes like
‘Make me feel again’ and ‘The
Wheels of love’. We got, of course ‘Rip
it up’, and the set ended with a rampant ‘A
girl like you’ with a simply stunning Frame
solo. The band promptly left the stage, leaving
Collins with his audience. Slowly and deliberately,
with the help of his wife, Grace, he made his way
off to the right of the stage, pausing just once
to look back. Of course there’s an encore,
Collins with Frame on guitar singing a new composition,
‘Searching for the truth’, which could
have had everyone in tears, and then with the band
‘Blue boy’ and finally ‘Don’t
shilly shally’. But before that final song,
the crowd are shouting and one voice catches Collin’s
attention. He looks earnest, frustrated –
“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry,
but I don’t remember that song. It’s
so difficult for me to remember …” It’s
a painful narrative which earns a huge ovation,
at the end of which Frame menacingly leans forward
searching for the voice in the crowd – “That’ll
teach you to ask for a song, you heartless bastard”.

But
like everything else it’s good humoured, and
what couldn’t be when Collins’ mischievous
laughter drives the set on? So, alone on stage,
he again makes that difficult walk, arm in arm with
his wife, and again stops and turns to look back,
almost quizzically, at the cheering crowd. That’s
one rock and roll picture I’ll remember for
ever. - Nick Morgan (photographs by Kate)Kate's
Chicken Legs Weaver photo album